


I Don't Want Your Love

by mistressterably



Series: One offs - TTOI related [19]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm's getting disturbing emails and he's determined to find out who's sending them and get it stopped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Want Your Love

Another email. That was four today, Malcolm grimaced. Whoever the fuck this person was needed to be fucking psychoanalyzed and then locked up in some fucking rubber room. Every day that week, four times a day he was getting an email from some anonymous person spouting on about how much they adored him. After the second day, he’d had IT start an investigation but all they could come up with so far was that it was an email address masked behind at least four other accounts that were being anonymously forwarded. It was probably some sort of script that was being used to mask the actual sender. 

No fucking shit, he thought darkly. Whoever the fuck was sending him these little ‘love notes’ would be in for some serious skin flaying once they were found out. And then, and here Malcolm grinned evilly, he’d turn them into the police. Or, better yet, he’d put Jamie on them. Yes, Jamie would really skewer them. If anyone could be jealous as fuck, then that would be Jamie.

Malcolm smiled at the thought of his best friend. Hard to say what was more erotic, thinking of Jamie as his lover or thinking of Jamie taking this obsessive email stalker and ripping the bastard a new bunghole. That was way too hard a fucking choice, Malcolm thought. First have Jamie destroy the insane cunt and then corner him just inside the door at home. Shaking his head to try and regain his composure, Malcolm quickly forwarded the email to his IT contact for them to see if they could get any more out of it. 

The emails continued. Every day. Four times a day. Each one was brief but had some sort of rude reference to what the writer wanted to do with him in a bed. 

If I could tie you to all four corners of a four poster bed, naked, ready, waiting. I could die happily.  
I imagine you’re at least 7 inches erect. I’d like you to be. I know that I can take a full 7 inches when I give you head.  
Take me from behind. Hard.  
Let me suck on your testicles all night.

At first, with the tone of the emails, Malcolm had thought it was Jamie having him on to try and get back at him for some past cocktease. But no, it wasn’t Jamie. His lover swore to him it wasn’t. Malcolm believed Jamie. 

That Saturday evening, Malcolm lay sprawled in bed with Jamie curled up beside him. Between the sex-laced emails he’d been getting all week long and not having been able to be with Jamie throughout the week, their sex had been hard, fast and passionate. Now, resting afterwards, Jamie was idly stroking Malcolm’s abdomen, teasing the dark hairs that led to his crotch. He should have been enjoying their post-sex moments but Malcolm was finding himself getting wound up by his stalker. Not realizing he had grunted aloud in frustration, Jamie brought him back to earth with a questioning ‘Malc?’ Instead of answering Jamie, Malcolm just pulled his lover on top of him and soon they were at it hard again. 

‘Any luck yet?’ Malcolm was barking at the IT fellow over the phone. He’d just gotten yet another email that was describing another sexual fantasy.

‘We think we’ve made progress but we have to apply to the courts for formal records acquisitions to confirm our suspicions. We don’t want any errors to mean we can’t proceed with criminal charges.’

‘I don’t fucking care about pressing goddamn charges. I just want the cunt’s name so I can bollock the bitch and have them stop!’ Malcolm was red in the face at the delays.

‘If I tell you before we get the legal proceedings…’ The IT guy stammered.

‘TELL ME THEIR FUCKING NAME!’ Malcolm’s face went white as the IT guy caved and gave him the name. He called Jamie and soon his lover was in his office, closing the door behind him. 

‘What’s wrong, Malc?’ Jamie was concerned by the look on Malcolm’s face.

‘The emails.’ Malcolm spoke quietly. 

‘You got a name?’ Jamie sat forward.

‘IT traced it. It’s in house.’ Malcolm was toying with a pen in his fingers.

‘Who?’

‘Fucking baldy. Julius.’ 

‘What?’

‘Yes. Julius. We can’t just skewer him, Jamie.’

‘I have no problems doing that.’

‘You do that and that fucker will know immediately. Won’t he?’ Malcolm knew it and so did Jamie. Confront the fucker and their desire to keep their relationship private would be blown. 

‘Fuck.’ Jamie hissed. ‘How do you stop him emailing you then?’

Malcolm rubbed at his eyes. ‘The usual. It’s a card that sits in my back pocket to make him play nice.’

‘Blackmail?’

‘A treaty.’ 

‘You’re going to fucking admit to him you’re gay?’

‘I don’t give a fuck if he tugs off thinking of me. I just don’t want to know about and I don’t want emails from him. I won’t tell him outright but he’ll likely fucking guess. He isn’t a fucking idiot.’

‘I’ll take the fucking heat. Not you.’ Jamie was offering to sacrifice himself in the eyes of the greater public to protect Malcolm. 

‘No. This will be strictly between Julius and myself. You won’t come up in the conversation at all.’

An hour later, with most of the other offices deserted for the night, Malcolm was knocking on Julius’ door. Entering, Malcolm closed the door behind him and sat down quietly.

‘Malcolm?’

‘Three people know your naughty game Julius. It ends immediately.’

Julius sat up straight, trying to look confused. ‘What are you talking about, Malcolm?’

‘IT tracked the email addresses. You made it tough but the IT guy was too smart. Tracked it right to your computer. Someone probably helped you set up the masked email but I doubt you would have told them why you wanted it masked.’

‘I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Julius continued to deny his involvement.

Malcolm pulled the printout of the emails from his jacket pocket and laid them in front of him. ‘Did you jack off as you wrote them? Thinking about me? Thinking that every time I bollocked you was me flirting with you?’ Julius couldn’t keep himself from blushing. ‘Hate to burst your fucking fantasy world, baldy. You’re not my type. You never will be. I don’t give a fuck if you want to have wet dreams about me. I really don’t. But you will stop sending me these stinking turd pile emails.’

‘Perhaps I got things a bit wrong, Malcolm. Please… ‘ Julius tried to backtrack, perhaps he had some vague notion of still getting into Malcolm’s trousers. 

‘Julius, it isn’t going to fucking happen. Move the fuck on to your next rent boy.’

‘I’m not that wrong, Malcolm. I know you are.’

‘Whether you know or you don’t, it doesn’t fucking matter Julius. This obsessive fascination that you think I may have for you is all in your fucking head.’ Malcolm threw the pages on Julius’ desk. ‘IT is going to make the emails disappear. Both on my end and on your end. This ends here and now. You send one more fucking email to me and you’re balls will be mine in a very unpleasant way.’

Julius bit his lip as the walls of the fantasy he’d built, thinking that he could convince Malcolm to take up with him, crumbled into dust. 

‘I’m not out to lynch you, Julius. I just don’t want your attentions. Understood?’

It was the emphasis Malcolm put on the ‘your’ that made Julius snap his gaze onto Malcolm’s eyes. He knew that he’d been right about Malcolm but it was a bittersweet knowledge now. And at the same time, Julius recognized it for what it was, a balance of power. Malcolm knew Julius’ secret and now Julius knew Malcolm’s. Julius could only nod in agreement. He picked up the printouts and, without a word, touched a lighter to them and watched them burn into ash in an ashtray. Malcolm nodded as the ash cooled and left Julius sitting alone in his office.

**Author's Note:**

> Was listening to Duran Duran's song, I Don't Want Your Love and was inspired to write this fic based on the line 'My obsessive fascination is in your imagination.'


End file.
